


sweater weather

by KittenAnarchy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: ;) nothing hurts right now, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Canon, i like speculating, i mean Reggie def killed them but, im actually really interested in the nannies, its just good times with baby Five and his nanny, no beta we die like ben, outsider pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26839366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittenAnarchy/pseuds/KittenAnarchy
Summary: Number Five, a dryer, and his first blink.
Relationships: Number Five & his Nanny
Comments: 12
Kudos: 130





	sweater weather

Little Number Five is a quiet child. 

Not that Anne minds, heavens no! After seeing the trouble Number Six and Number Seven give to their nannies, Anne wouldn’t dare complain about having a quiet child. 

But at three years old, he is the only child that has yet to utter a single word. He gets his point across well enough, though, with tugging and pointing, along with the occasional drawing if that rotten employer of hers permits it. It’s a game of charades that Anne has gotten incredibly good at. 

Today, however, Anne truly has no idea what her charge is asking for. 

“I’m sorry Five, but I can’t understand you,” She pries his little fingers off of her skirt gently. He looks put out by her rejection, continuing his furious pointing at the dryer where one of the last few loads are going. “That’s just a dryer, dear.”

He kicks at the ground, his cute little face scrunching up with frustration. Five doesn’t usually get mad so openly — he sulks in a corner and ignores her and everyone else. Anne can’t bring herself to be frustrated with him. After three years with this precious, stubborn little boy, she sees him as her own flesh and blood, and she knows it’s the same for the other nannies. 

They had made a pact, to steal the children away in a few years, when they were a little older and had a bit more control over their powers. As much as Anne wants to take them far, far away from Reginald Hargreeves now, they all agreed that it wouldn’t do for him to find them just because the children became fussy.

For now, all she can do is push back Five’s silky black hair, peck a kiss on his forehead, and promise him everything will be alright. 

The dryer gives a light beep, slowing to a stop. “Five, darling, can you open up the dryer?” He likes to be helpful; maybe this will take his mind off of whatever he wants. It’s usually related to his siblings — the boy hardly gets to interact with them these days outside of mealtimes. Along with his speech delay, little Five hasn’t shown any sign of a power yet. As such, Sir Hargreeves has kept him from playing and interacting with the rest of his siblings. 

(Anne remembers when they figured out Number Four’s power. Her employer had swept him away, leaving Five alone with strict instructions to keep him inside. 

The boy had watched his siblings play together in the courtyard quietly from a window with wet, red-rimmed eyes, lips pressed tightly together. He wouldn’t respond to anything for a few days afterward.) 

He toddles over, and Anne can barely keep the amusement off her face at the sight of his little hands struggling to open the machine. She’s tempted not to; his pouty face is priceless. 

She’ll let him struggle for a bit. It will keep him occupied, and she can finish folding up the clothes. Humming a soft tune, Anne tunes out Five’s soft grunts. As cute as they are, they’re a bit of a distraction. 

She gets so lost in thought that the sudden sound startles her. A jolt rushes up her spine, as if she’d run across a carpet in socks. “Oh, did you get it open?” Anne turns to ask her charge... who is not in the room. The dryer is still closed, though, and she hadn’t heard the door open. “Five?” She does a walk around the room, peering behind the machines and inside the linen closets. 

He isn’t there. 

He isn’t there. 

“Okay, calm down Anne,” She mutters to herself. “You’ve just lost a four-year-old. A four-year-old boy in a house that takes up an entire city block. You have maybe four hours to find him before Sir Hargreeves gets back.” 

No pressure. 

—

“Wha’s wrong, Ms. Annie?” Anne startles at the tug on her skirt, quickly wiping her eyes. It’s been about an hour since she and the other nannies had started looking for the boy, combing through the rooms carefully. They weren’t even a quarter of a way done yet. 

It’s a testament to how frazzled she has gotten if she hadn’t even noticed Little Number Three approaching her. 

“Nothing’s wrong, dear,” Three frowns, opening her mouth. Anne is not in the mood to be rumored today, so she hastily continues. “I’m just worried about your brother, Five. I don’t suppose you’ve seen him?” 

“Hm... nope. I can try rumoring the others to help search, though!” She’s always so eager to help. Anne will have to bring up Three’s... inclination to rumoring as a first resort with her nanny later. It can’t lead to anything good in the future. For now, she’ll give her a pat and send her off. 

“Thank you, dear, but I think we’ll be okay.” 

“Are you sure?” She prods. “I wanna help real bad.”

“I’m sure. It’s sweet of you, worrying about your brother like this.”

Three giggles, shaking her head. “‘M not worried. I need Five to gimme back my winter socks and Seven’s ribbons.” 

Anne blinks. That’s news to her. “He takes your things?”

“Yeah. I think it’s ‘cause he’s always shaking ‘nd cold. He shakes so bad, he spilled some juice on my fluffy blankey!” Three huffs out, clearly incensed. “Ms. Jane is putting it in the dryer right now.”

It hits her so fast that she nearly gets whiplash. Gathering her skirts, Anne starts running to where her charge is hiding. “Thank you very much, Three!” She calls over her shoulder, rushing towards the laundry room at top speed, nearly bowling over Jane in the process. 

“Anne!” Jane squeaks, clutching a wet blanket close to her chest. “What on earth has gotten into you?” Ignoring the other nanny, she opens the dryer, still faintly warm from when she was using it a few hours earlier, and right there in the back of the dryer, Little Number Five is bundled up in a mess of linens. He blinks at her, yawning and rubbing at his green eyes cutely.

The little brat. Couldn’t have asked for some blankets, could he? 

“Help me get him out,” Anne says, squatting down to start tugging at the tangled pieces of fabric. She has no idea how he got himself in the dryer, and right now, she really doesn’t care. Five stares at her, before his little face scrunched up, and he squeezes his fists. “Please don’t cry, Five—“

With a soft crackle of electricity, he disappears in a flash of blue, leaving behind only the faint smell of ozone. 

Jane screams. 

Anne nearly screams herself when he reappears in her lap, nearly sending them both on a short trip to personally meet the floor. “F-Five!” The boy in question buried his face in the crook of her neck, clinging to her like a koala. 

“I am so glad my girl can’t teleport,” Jane says quietly from behind her, still staring wide-eyed at the boy in her arms. “I’ll, uh, tell Sir Hargreeves. Have fun!” 

“Don’t just— Don’t just leave me here! Jane! _Jane_!” 

**Author's Note:**

> This fandom doesn’t explore early pre-canon enough, and it’s a shame. 
> 
> Think of them,, the BAPIES,,, <333
> 
> Also Whumptober is making me too sad :( I needed some sugar


End file.
